“I can’t believe we did so much,” Cheryl says, looking around the room and seeing that there is only one bag left.

“How about we pick out a couple of outfits for you?”

“I couldn’t do that. It doesn’t seem right,” I tell her, and she smiles at me.

“You did more than I did,” she says, “and we didn’t even stop and eat.”

“I’m okay,” I say. “I usually skip lunch.”

“I usually just grab an apple,” Cheryl says. “Now, let’s get you a couple of outfits.” She goes over to the pile and grabs the shirt I was looking at before and then a couple more and puts them in a bag. I walk over to the jeans and go through them to see if they have my size. “Any big plans for the weekend?”

“I work tomorrow,” I say, finding my size and smiling when I see they are almost new.

“Where?”

“Motel Carpe,” I say. “I do housekeeping on Saturday.”

“That’s a nice little place,” she says. “I stayed there once when I first got to town.”

“It really is,” I say, thinking about the other motel in town that rents rooms by the hour. I lasted two weeks before my stomach gave out when I went to clean a room, and there was so much lube and blood on one bed that it had seeped into the mattress.

“Where does Dylan stay when you clean?” she asks, and I look over at her.

“I bring him with me. He usually watches videos or goes to the park next door,” I say. The door opens, and I hear his voice, so I turn to see Dylan and Justin walking into the room.

“See, I told you that she was here,” Dylan says, and Justin just looks at me with a huge smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he says, looking at me and then nodding at Cheryl who sits there with her mouth hanging open.

“What are you two doing here?” I ask, looking back at the clock to make sure it’s working.

“We got out a bit early,” Justin says. “We can go wait in the SUV.”

“No,” Cheryl says, recovering from the shock of either Justin or that he is so good looking. “She’s done anyway.”

“I still have this bag to finish, and then I have to help sort them.” I look at Justin and Dylan, who is now standing like Justin.

“Oh, no,” Cheryl says. “I have to go in twenty minutes, so I’m leaving all this here and we can work on it on Monday.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, looking around at the heaping piles of clothes.

“Oh, yeah,” she says, smiling. “Your boys are waiting for you.”

“Okay,” I say, getting up and ignoring the way my stomach flipped when she said my boys.

“Can we get ice cream?” Dylan says. “Justin says only if you said yes.”